


There's worse things than love

by hamilfish



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, this has been chilling for way too long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamilfish/pseuds/hamilfish
Summary: The new kid in Oak's dressing room is kinda cute.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shoutout to P for beta-ing this and listening to me babble about oak and jordan at any given moment of the day. I love you with all of my heart.

Jordan's not nervous. He met some of the cast before when he came to see the show, met the rest in rehearsals over the last few weeks. Everyone seems really nice and they've all welcomed him with open arms. It's made his move to Broadway a lot easier, the feeling of already having a big family there to support him. There's a lot of people and he's still trying to learn all of their names, but Anthony's left him a little handbook—a slightly battered little pocket notebook—which is really helpful. It's called Laurens' handy guide and it was passed onto him along with a couple of tequila shots. We're starting a tradition, Anthony had slurred in his ear, arm around his shoulders, You gotta write your own shit in for the next guy. Jordan's looking forward to that, getting into the role and accumulating tips that he'll be able to pass onto whoever replaces him.

He’s not nervous. He feels a little jumpy, a lot excited, but that may have to do with the two coffees he's had already. It's show day. His family is coming to see him, he's going to perform in his first Broadway show and he's been up since five a.m., adrenaline high. He's probably going to crash hard later but right now he feels on top of the world. He's ready, his heart is pumping loud in his chest and there's nothing he wants more than to stand on that stage and perform to a sold out crowd.

His mom calls him Tinkerbell, tells everyone who will listen about how little Jordan joined drama club to impress a girl but ended up loving the attention so much that he made a career out of it. It’s a good anecdote, he tells it in interviews when people ask him about his start. Teen magazines live for that kind of corny shit and he loves when they talk about him, when anyone talks about him.

Jordan walks into the Richard Rodgers with confidence. He’s light on his feet, feels like skipping but decides against it. He may be the baby of the cast, but he doesn’t want people to treat him like one, so skipping into work on the first day is probably not the best idea. His dressing room’s the second to the left and the star poster with his name has been put up right under Okieriete’s. He's inherited it from Anthony who, for the past year and a half, has probably spent more time in it than at his actual apartment. It's cozy. There's a vanity for each of them and a faded green loveseat which he's been warned about. Sit on it at your own risk, Andrew told him on his first visit. Stories about locked doors and bodily fluids have helped him shape his own opinion about it.

Oak’s in the dressing room when he walks in. He’s sitting on the couch—gross—and writing in a roughed up notebook. His brow is furrowed heavily and he looks... really cute, Jordan thinks.

There’s a note about him in the handy book. Oak is witty, a little snarky, it reads, but he’s soft too, gives the best advice you will ever receive. There’s more on him and what it’s like to share a dressing room with him but what Anthony doesn’t mention in his notes is how attractive Okieriete is. 

Jordan’s got a bit of a track record with his co-stars — Mollee back in the Teen Beach days, Dylan when he had a spot on Teen Wolf, and Dove, multiple times, during the months he'd filmed Liv and Maddie. He hadsn’t actively sought them out, but he’s a flirt and if the opportunity presents itself, he won’t say no. 

He definitely wouldn’t say no to Oak’sfull lips and broad chest.  
He clears his throat a bit, and Oak looks up. "Well, if it isn't the Disney prince."

"I wasn't a prince," Jordan pulls up a chair, sits near Oak but steers clear of the couch.

“You look like one," Oak shrugs.

Jordan’s face feels hot and tries to look down, but Okieriete’s staring right at him with a smirk. He wants to say something, spit back a witty remark, but he can’t concentrate on anything other than Oak’s arms. He’s wearing a tank top so it’s not like Jordan is actively ogling him, but it’s hard not to look. He wants to come up with words but instead all his mind comes up with is his hands on Oak’s arms, pressing him down against the disgusting couch, lips on his neck. Shit. 

Jordan knows it’s a bad idea but he wants to see what Oak looks like when he’s sweaty and turned on, wants to watch him fall apart.

“I got you something,” Oak says, pulling Jordan out of his daze.

“You did what?”

Oak stands up and Jordan has to look up—he’s starting to understand the gentle giant nickname a lot better now. His eyes follow as Okieriete crosses the room in two big steps—Jordan takes six—and watches as he pulls a bottle from his bag.

“To celebrate your first Broadway show. I figured you’re probably too young to buy your own,” Oak says with a smirk.

Jordan squints at him and snags the bottle out of Oak’s hand. It’s a large bottle of Jack Daniels, and although Jordan’s more of a rum guy, he appreciates the gesture.

“Thanks, but I’ll have you know I’ve been able to buy my own alcohol for a good two years now.”

“Christ, I feel old.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t look a day over forty,” Jordan spits back and Oak, who’s taken his seat back on the couch, throws a pillow at him.

———

Olivia comes to see him on week three and Jordan couldn’t be more excited to finally share his latest project with her. He’s antsy during voice brush-ups, tells everyone his best friend is coming to see the show tonight and it has to be perfect.

Jordan hasn’t seen her in two months. Their schedules rarely match up, but they make up for it FaceTiming every night. She gives him all the Disney Channel gossip and he tells her about Broadway and the hilarious shit that happens backstage. They talk about life, too, how lucky they are to have each other to go through life with. Sometimes Olivia calls to bitch about her boyfriend, needs Jordan to validate that she isn't completely crazy for being angry. Jordan listens, coos about how she's right, even if he knows she isn't. He loves her like he's never loved anyone before, and although it's not the I want to marry you kind of love, it's the purest and most amazing relationship he's ever had with someone.

All dating prospects go through Olivia. He sends her pictures and a name and lets her do her thing. She's opinionated, often has to meet the person before she makes a clear decision, but he loves her honesty. He hasn't mentioned Okieriete yet. Not because he's scared of what she'll have to say—she's going to love him—but because he's not really sure if it's a thing or not. He feels a certain type of way for sure: his heart beats faster and all he wants to do is listen to Oak say his name on repeat, but he doesn't think it’s mutual, and he doesn't want Olivia to get excited over something that won't happen.

She nearly tackles him to the ground after the show but he catches her and spins her around. Her face is close to his ear as she breathes out.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, Jo. You’re incredible."

His heart swells—he loves attention, but even more so he loves making the people he cares about proud. Olivia is honest too, has told him before when a song he writes sucks or if he's singing off-key, which makes her compliment even more special. 

Jordan sets her back down on her feet but keeps his arms tight around her,his face buried in her neck. He doesn't wanna let go, wants to keep her with him forever; she feels like home. They stumble into his dressing room together and he lets himself fall onto the chair, pulling her into his lap. He keeps his face pressed against her skin, holds her as close as he possibly can. Jordan lets himself get lost a little, forgets about his schedule, the reviews, the interviews, and just focuses on Olivia. He whispers missed you against her skin and hears her say it back, faintly.

Someone clears his throat. Not him, not her. Oak. Jordan looks up slowly, can’t help smiling like an idiot.

"Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?” A pause, and Jordan loosens his hold on Olivia.

"She's not— we're not, uh, we're not dating."

His mind kind of spins out of control as he tries to explain what they are and suddenly he can't stop talking:yeah, they're close, but they're not close like that, she’s his best friend, he could never. He babbles for what feels like a good five minutes before Olivia puts her hand over his mouth.

"Stop talking. God." She shakes her head at him, holds out her hand towards Oak. "Hi, I'm Olivia."

Jordan’s thankful for the distraction. He knows he talks too much; silence makes him uncomfortable and he always wants to try and fill it with words. 

“We’ve been friends for ages,” Olivia starts, shuffles in his lap so she can face Okieriete better. “He’s like a brother to me.” 

Jordan tunes the chatter out, rests his chin on Liv’s shoulder so he can watch Oak. He looks at the way his hands rest on his thighs and the way his pants ride up a little at the ankle. His socks are mismatched; Jordan remembers Okieriete telling him it was something he’d picked up from his big sister way back when.

He only snaps back into it when Javi walks in, says something about Oak promising him to help with the garden. The second they’re out the door, Olivia switches to the chair in front of him and just grins.

"What?" He knows what, but he still asks, for good measure.

"You like him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about,” Jordan coughs, tries to keep his voice even. 

“You liiiiiiiiike him,” she sing-songs, her face brightly lit with a smile.

“Shut up, Livvy.”

“He’s cute, you know how to pick ‘em,” Olivia shrugs.

Jordan rolls his eyes at her but takes her back to his place anyways, spends the night eating pizza and telling Olivia all about Okieriete Onaodowan. 

————

Jordan's tired. Between the Jingle Balls and Hamilton, he's spent more time in airports and on stage in the past week then he has anywhere else. Broadway’s new to him, and he still hasn’t figured out how to balance his schedule yet. It's a lot of work. There's voice rehearsals and eight shows a week, and the cast likes to go out, a lot. He tries to keep up with it all but he hasn’t stopped all week and he is so, so tired.

He hardly makes it through the matinee show and as much as he wants to give 100% his body can realistically only give about 80. The audience seems to enjoy it anyways, roars when he sings raise a glass to freedom even if it's off-key. He knows the cast notices but they don't mention it; everyone's got bad days and Jordan's usually on his shit, so they let it slide. He’s thankful for that because the last thing he needs right now is someone to get on his case for slacking. 

He’s answering emails on his phone, trying to keep his eyes open when Oak stops him in the hallway, hand gripping onto his right shoulder.

"You okay, kid?" He asks, leaning in close.

"M' fine." Jordan tries to turn but Oak's hand is pressed down on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

"Don't lie, Fish. You're not fooling me."

He doesn't try to say he's fine again. They've been cohabiting in the same dressing room for a good month and a half now, and Jordan knows he's easy to read. 

He leans back a little, closes his eyes “Tired,” he mumbles.. Okieriete doesn’t say anything, but his hand travels from his shoulder to the back of Jordan’s neck, rubbing the knobs of his spine. He’s gentle and steady behind Jordan as he walks them to their dressing room. Jordan sees him close the door with his foot and then Oak nods towards the couch. Gross, he thinks.

“You need a nap.”

Jordan shakes his head a little, tries to protest because he has so much to do and so many emails to respond to, but Oak walks him to the couch anyway. He's so tired that he lets him, doesn’t protest when Okieriete takes the phone from his hands and shuts it off. He lies down where he’s told and rests his head on Oak’s thigh. 

He's asleep in a matter of minutes, lulled by Oak's soft humming and Oak's fingers carding through his hair.

————

He gets to the theatre a little early, not because he wants to but because it’s the only moment he has to rehearse. His last Jingle Ball of the season is in a few days and he wants to give it his all. He connects his phone to Oak’s tiny speaker and lets the music pour out in the dressing room.

I’ve been thinking ‘bout your skin…

Jordan finds himself thinking about Oak more often than one might deem a professional amount. He’s on his mind when Jordan wakes up hazy in nothing but his boxers, and he’s there late at night when Jordan slides a hand down his sweatpants. He’s there at work too, spitting snarky remarks with a placating hand on the small of his back, and sometimes after shows too, when everyone goes out to dinner and Jordan ends up crowded in a small booth next to him.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck, eyes closed. His mind summons Oak as he sings. Flashes of sweaty skin, dark eyes and soft lips on his neck, hands down his back, nails digging in, . 

All I wanna do is think about what you think about when you think about me…

Jordan turns on his heels with a smirk and that’s when he notices Okieriete standing in the doorway. He freezes a bit, runs a hand over his hair a bit nervously. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re talented, kid,” Oak says. “I mean, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, but.” 

“Thanks,” Jordan laughs. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Second verse,” Oak says with a smirk. “Nice dance moves.”

There’s a pause, and Jordan’s dying to fill it with words but Oak doesn’t give him that option. He takes a step forward, just as Jordan steps back so he’s pressed against the vanity. Okieriete towers over him and Jordan has to look up to meet his eyes.

“So.” A pause, and Jordan’s breath hitches. “What do you think about when you think about me?”

Your dick, is honestly the first thing that goes through Jordan’s mind, but he decides to keep that to himself. He licks his lips, watches Oak closely.

"You know,” Jordan starts, chooses his words carefully, “it’s hard to kiss you unexpectedly when you’re so goddamn tall.”

Okieriete leans down, his face inches from Jordan’s.

"Now's your chance, Fish."

He takes it, places his hands on Oak’s chest and kisses him. It’s soft at first, but then Okieriete fits his hands on his hips and something inside Jordan shifts. He deepens the kiss, hands sliding up Oak’s chest to his neck before he pushes him back onto the couch. Jordan smiles a little at Oak’s surprised face and straddles him, draping his arms over his shoulders.

“You told me to take my chance.”

Okieriete doesn’t bother with an answer, instead leans up to kiss him again and Jordan melts into him a little, licks at his bottom lip. Oak parts his mouth open for him a little and Jordan slides his tongue against his, moans when Oak’s hand slides just under the hem of his shirt. 

He’s about to take his shirt off when someone knocks on their door. Oak groans under him, calls out “We’re busy!” and strokes over Jordan’s hip.

Jordan wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, laughing, and gets out of his lap when whoever’s outside their door just yells back, “Oak, you’re needed in makeup!” 

Okieriete pats his thigh a little, dangerously close to where Jordan’s half hard in his sweats, before he stands up. 

“We’ll resume this later,” is all he says before walking out of the dressing room, leaving Jordan to process (and jerk off on the gross couch.)

———

They’re at a shitty bar a few blocks from the theatre to celebrate Jasmine’s last show and there’s a lot of people. 

Jordan’s a little drunk. Anthony keeps bringing him shots and yelling “To the revolution!” so Jordan kinda feels like he has to take them. You know, for the revolution.

He sees Oak leaning against the bar, tall and pretty, swirling around a rum and coke. Jordan wants to walk over and kiss him, continue what they’ve been doing in their dressing room between shows for the past couple of weeks, music on loud and a chair blocking the door for privacy.

He walks over to Oak, crowds up into his space a little. “Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Oak grins, raises his glass.

“Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

“I was enjoying a little moment of quiet,” Oak shrugs as his hand finds Jordan’s hip, pulling him a little closer. “But you’re cute, you can stay.”

There’s a beat. Jordan leans into Okieriete’s touch. “I wanna kiss you.” 

Oak laughs, rolls his eyes a little. “Fish, why do you keep announcing it like that? Just do it.”

“Too tall,” Jordan whines, tugs at his shirt a bit until Oak finally leans down enough that he can kiss him. 

Jordan’s brain is hazy from the alcohol and he grips onto Okieriete’s shirt a little more, deepens the kiss. He bites at Oak’s bottom lip a little, groans when he pulls away.

“Jordan… this is a work party,” Oak’s talking soft, lips still inches from Jordan’s. 

Jordan laughs and lets go of Oak’s shirt, reaches for his hand instead. He drags him to the closest bathroom and the door doesn’t lock but there’s a stall that does and it’ll have to do. Jordan pushes Oak into the stall, presses him up against one of the wall.

“This, is a terrible idea.” Oak states, matter-of-factly. He doesn’t stop Jordan though, lets him slide his hand over his jeans.

“Mhmm, sure it is.” He unbuttons his jeans quickly, looks up at Oak as he slides his hand into his boxers, not bothering to push them down.

Oak’s mouth is on his to suppress a moan and Jordan nips at his bottom lip with his teeth. It’s not the greatest angle, the tip of Oak’s cock is pressed against his shirt which is definitely gonna leave a stain of precome but he’s got a good grip on him, steady pace. He smirks to himself as Okieriete’s cock hardens under his touch. 

Jordan pulls away from the kiss to watch his hand, watches as Oak fucks up into his fist a little and grips a little harder, meeting his rhythm with steady strokes.

“Fuck…” Oak drops his head to Jordan’s shoulder, bites a little over his sweater.

Jordan picks up the pace, thumbs at his slit gently and Oak moans, loud. It goes straight to Jordan’s dick, pressing hard against his jeans. 

His mouth finds Oak’s neck and he licks up the side of it slowly, grunting as he feels his cock throb against his hand. Oak is mumbling against his shoulder and Jordan only catches a couple of words. more, please, just like that fish…

He slows his hand down to a stop and Oak whines, grips at Jordan’s sides as he breathes out.

“No…”

Jordan smirks, fits Oak back in his jeans and zips him up. He presses his lips to Oak’s, kisses his pout away.

“You’re coming home with me. If you’re nice, you’ll get to come.”

He’s nice, blows Jordan good so he gets to come twice that night, falls asleep in Jordan’s bed, still twitching a little.

\------

It becomes a thing. Jordan takes Oak home a couple of nights a week, he stays for breakfast, takes Sora out for a walk while Jordan cooks and it’s nice, he could get used to this.

He wakes up to Okieriete’s soft snoring, watches his bare back rise and fall as he breathes. He takes a picture, sends a snapchat to Olivia with a caption that reads I want to wake up next to him every day. He feels a lot, too fast, too soon and Liv’s gonna tell him to slow down. He won’t.

Jordan’s hand finds Oak’s spine, strokes up and down softly until he blinks awake.

“Morning Fish” his voice is low, raspy, sends shivers up Jordan’s body.

“Good morning” 

His hand keeps stroking, slides a little lower every time, close to the sheet that’s covering Oak’s bare skin. 

“Oh are we doing that this morning?” 

Jordan just smirks, slides his hand under the sheet and grabs a handful of his ass. Oak groans a little, reaches for the lube and condoms he knows are kept in the bedside table. 

He has a side now, sleeps on the left and leaves a couple of shirts hanging around Jordan’s place. Sometimes Jordan shows up to work wearing them, he likes the oversized look and likes the lingering smell from Oak’s cologne. He also likes the way Okieriete gets a little more touchy when he wears his stuff, loves the way he whispers mine when he brushes past him in the hallway.

Jordan sets the condom aside for now and picks up the bottle of lube. Oak is still on his stomach, arm under his head as he watches Jordan with a smile.

“You’re pretty”

Jordan scoffs at him a little “Yeah, yeah. Like a disney prince.”

Okieriete grins and before he can say anything, Jordan slides a finger inside him, smiles when he gasps under him. 

“Jesus. A warning maybe?” 

Jordan shrugs a little, doesn’t apologize because Oak’s pushing back against him, rocking against his hand. He moves slowly, lazy as he hovers over him a little, kisses at the nape of his neck. 

“So good for me…” He whispers against Oak’s hot skin and Oak seems to like that because he moans out loudly, presses Jordan on for more. 

Jordan gives in, adds a second finger and takes his time, spreading him open slowly. He wants to take his time, very much to Oak’s despair, who’s whining for more under him.

“You’re so impatient” he says with a laugh, kisses his cheek a little sloppy.

“Just get on with it, Fish.”

Jordan slides his fingers out slowly and kneels next to Oak’s face, pushes his cock against his lips. Oak parts his lips for him, sucks on the head Jordan feeds him. It’s a weird angle, Okieriete’s still on his stomach, but he just wants to feel the warmth of his mouth for a bit. 

It’s lazy, Jordan’s hand on the back of Oak’s head as he pushes in slowly, barely past the tip of his dick but he groans anyways, rakes his nails up Oak’s scalp a little. He hears Oak sputter something around his cock and pulls off.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Oak wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Fuck me”

“Fuck me what?” 

“Please,” he looks up at Jordan, licks at his bottom lip, “Fuck me please”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. Jordan breathes out and Oak grunts along with him as he sinks into him. Time stills around them and nothing else matters. Jordan’s hands press into Okieriete’s sides, pulls him up a little so he can slide himself in deeper. 

Oak tilts his head to the side to look at him, his eyes are dark, mouth hanging open a little and Jordan’s breath hitches.

“God, look at you.”

A whine, Oak presses his face into the pillow and fucks himself back on Jordan’s cock. Jordan holds himself still, lets him do the work while he watches. Okieriete’s on his knees now, holds himself up with his forearms as he presses himself back into Jordan. His hips aren’t steady and the thrusts are irregular so it’s not long before Oak’s whining again, turning his head to look at Jordan. 

“Hard,” he says through a moan, “Wanna feel it when I’m on stage.”

Jordan groans loud at that, digs his fingers into Okieriete’s skin hard enough to leave a bruise and he gives into Oak’s demands, pressing him back against the bed. Oak gets louder with every thrust of Jordan’s hips, Jordan knows he’s close from the way he’s tightening around him, hips rutting against the mattress a little.

“Me first,” he says, kissing the side of his mouth. “Don’t come.”

Jordan watches Okieriete as he grips onto the comforter and the whimper that comes out of his mouth tips him over the edge. He’s laying on top of Oak, fingertips leaving marks in his skin and he spills into the condom, his cock pulsing inside Oak. Jordan stills slowly, face pressed into Okieriete’s shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re the best…”

He presses a kiss to his hot skin, eases himself out slowly. Oak’s on his stomach still, watches Jordan as he walks around the room to his garbage, takes care of the condom. 

“I didn’t come”

Jordan turns around, raises his eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he climbs back into bed, motions for Oak to lay on his back.

Oak rolls onto his back for him, keeps his eyes fixed on Jordan but stays quiet. Jordan just smiles at him, gets between his legs. He’s hard, twitches against his stomach when Jordan kisses the skin right next to it. He licks up his length slowly, keeps a hand around the base of him. He has a nice cock, thick and long, stretches Jordan’s mouth when he sucks him.

“Hey Oak?”

He hears a grunt in response, pinches his thigh a little.

“Okieriete, words please”

“Yeah, what?” He breathes out, sits up a little on his elbows to look at him.

“If I let you fuck my mouth, will you be good for me?”

Oak blinks a little but nods. He’s quiet and his hand finds Jordan cheek, strokes softly with his thumb. 

“Sit up” Jordan’s still in charge, in any situation he always takes the lead and Okieriete lets him. He follows and does what he’s asked to do, sits up and lets Jordan move his legs so that they hang off the bed. 

Jordan gets on his knees in front of him, smiles up when Oak groans under his breath. He parts his lips for him, lets Oak guide himself into his mouth.

He’s delicate, it’s sweet. Jordan always loves doing this with Oak because he never goes to hard, always takes his time. Jordan hollows out his cheeks and breathes through his nose as Oak thrusts in his mouth.

He feels a steady hand at the back of his head and he closes his eyes, humming around Okieriete’s dick. He gets more talkative as his orgasm gets close and his thrusts get a little less steady, a little messier. 

“God yeah…” he groans out. “Fish, fuck can I- please, can I come?”

“Yah” Jordan says, pulls back a little and darts his tongue out for him.

Oak comes quickly, coats Jordan’s tongue and gets a little on his cheek too. He keeps repeating fuck Jordan, over and over again under his breath, like a mantra. Jordan swallows, licks at his bottom lip and watches Oak fall back onto the bed, spent. 

“Pretty boy,” Jordan says, wipes his face with a shirt he finds on the floor of his bedroom. He pulls on a pair of boxers he thinks are his, they aren’t, they reach all the way to his knees. He sees Oak’s eyes get smaller and throws a flannel at him. 

“Oak, hey. Hey, babe, gotta stay awake.”

“No…”

“Yeah come on, you can either make breakfast or go walk Sora.” 

Oak chooses breakfast because there's no way he's walking anywhere right now and when Jordan comes back from taking the dog out, there's a bag of bagels that Oak's ordered from the place across the street and a tall Okieriete asleep on his couch, covered with Jordan’s favourite blanket.

———

When Oak walks in, Jordan's sitting on the floor with his legs wide open, carefully cutting out a star from a construction paper. He doesn’t notice Okieriete right away, too focused on making sure all the sides are relatively equal.

“Aw, is this your final project to pass kindergarten?”

Jordan groans a little at that and looks up, setting the star on top of a pile he’s already done, "I'm decorating our door.”

Oak smiles fondly, picks up a pair of scissors and joins him on the floor. Jordan watches carefully and doesn’t make a comment about how clumsy Okieriete looks with the tiny pair of scissors in his large hands, he’s just happy to get a little help.  
There’s a silence. This time Jordan doesn’t mind, he’s grown to like them over the course of the last couple of weeks. He focuses on Oak’s breathing and tunes into it like it’s a song. It feels comfortable, sometimes he thinks he could sit like that for hours but it never lasts. Jordan can’t sit still for longer than ten minutes.

Oak must notice that he’s getting jittery and he touches his hand to Jordan’s knee.

“Who’s the gift on the table for?”

“You. I got you in the Secret Santa draw” Jordan grins at him, all proud.

"You know, the point of Secret Santa is that it's supposed to be a secret who picked you."

Jordan shrugs and Oak stretches his arm over to pick up the gift. “Can I open it now?”

“Mmmm.”

He unwraps the first box, his face lights up with a smile. A box of mistmatched socks. He’s found this store, online, that specifically puts together two different socks to make a pair. They’re fun too, Jordan’s made sure to choose specific pairs to fit Oak’s personality. There’s one at the bottom, Oak hasn’t looked all the way there yet, that has Hulk on it. For his gentle giant.

Oak leans over to press a kiss to his lips, then his nose gently.

"I love this, thank you."

Jordan smiles brightly and reaches under the couch, hands him a smaller box, neatly wrapped. Oak raises his eyebrow at him but he just shrugs.

“Open it.”

He does, unwraps it slowly and carefully, as if not to ruin the wrapping. He freezes a little when he sees what’s under it. A leather notebook. Not just any notebook, it’s custom made, engraved with embellishment and at the centre of it, his name. Okieriete, in a nice cursive Jordan’s spent hours choosing. He smiles softly, proud of the reaction he's elicited from Oak. 

"Yours is almost full."

"The rule was under ten dollars." Oak's fingers are tracing over the designs carved into the leather.

"The socks were nine" Jordan replies straight away.

"Fish."

"I don't like rules and this isn't refundable."

Oak grabs him by the collar of his bomber jacket and pulls him in, mumbles thank you against his lips before kissing him.

Jordan gets to the makeup chair a little late and he can’t help but laugh when the crew gets on his ass about the fresh bruise on his neck and the glitter in his hair.

——

Andrew isn’t on today so Jordan has him set up the common room for Oak’s last show. He gives him his credit card with a list attached to it, makes sure he doesn't start setting up until the second act to keep it a surprise.

The list isn't too long. A couple dozen daisies (Oak's favorites), enough bottles of Moët for the whole cast, as many bags of crispy m&ms as possible and confetti poppers, lots and lots of confetti poppers. He also gives him a rolled up banner, tells him to hang it up at the back of the room. Jordan’s painted “Happy Trails Okieriete” on it using the leftover pink paint from the wall in his bathroom. 

This day is important to him. Oak’s not going to say but Jordan knows him now and he can tell this is affecting him more than he’s letting on.

Jordan’s informed everyone in the current cast and he’s even invited people from the original cast, with Lin's help. Most of them are coming, watching the show from the back of orchestra so Oak doesn't see them in the crowd.

Jordan can't sit still. He checks his phone every two minutes, walks around backstage fiddling with his costume. He's texting Andrew back about the confetti poppers when Oak sets his hand on his arm. He shuts his phone off quickly, nearly launches it across the floor.

"Alex told me you looked like you were about to explode. Thought you may need a little help calming down"

"I'm okay.”

"Fish, you’re shaking."

He looks at his hands and furrows his brow a little. He always gets like this when he’s trying to organize something, gets worked up because he wants every detail to be perfect. Jordan lets Oak take him away to a corner, sits down where he’s told and looks up at him when he kneels by his side.

"What's on your mind? You look frazzled.”

"Just wanna make sure everything goes well on your last show.” It's not a complete lie.

"That's a lot of weight to put on such a small person's shoulders,” Oak says, places his hands on Jordan’s knees. “My last show's gonna be great because I get to share the stage with my amazing friends and you alright?”

Jordan relaxes when Oak kisses him, closes his eyes. For a moment he forgets about the party, about Andrew and all he still has left to do, he just focuses on Oak. Oak's lips on his, his hands on his knees, steady.

He lets himself get lost in the moment and when they get the five minutes to places call, he gives himself another minute with Oak.  
_______

The confetti poppers all go off at about a second interval, bottles of champagnes are popped too and Jordan's standing in the middle of it all, watching Oak. Oak, who's still in the doorframe, seems to be frozen in time a little. He's looking around at everyone, seems a little dumbfounded and then he meets Jordan’s eyes.

Jordan walks up to Okieriete slowly and everyone around seems to know they need a moment, starts pouring champagne in the plastic flutes and looks away.

"Happy Trails" he says softly, picks a daisy out of a nearby vase and hands it to him.

"Did you plan all this?"

Jordan nods a little and Oak wraps arms around him, tight. Jordan rubs his back slowly when Oak presses his face into his neck and breathes out shakily. He gives him as long as he wants, Oak’s shoulders are shaking a little, his eyes tightly shut. Jordan lets him cry on his shoulder, holds him through it.

They stay like this for a while, Okieriete's lips are on his neck and then right against his ear.

"I love you" 

Jordan's heart stops beating for a second and then Oak says it again, fireworks in the pit of his stomach. 

He wants to say it back, kinda wants to yell it so everyone knows but Oak pulls away and with a soft squeeze of Jordan’s side, he’s off to go talk to everyone who came for him.

Jordan doesn’t blame him, he’s invited everyone for Oak and they’re here to celebrate his great run. So he spends the night attached to Okieriete’s side as he mingles with everyone, takes it upon himself to refill his champagne glass whenever it gets too low. 

The night ends late, there’s laughing and drinking and he’s pretty sure he sees Lin standing on top of a table at some point, salsa dancing with Vanessa. 

By the time everyone starts to scatter away, Oak's a little light on his feet, sways against Jordan, his eyes a little red and puffy.

"Take me home Fish”

“Mine or yours?” He asks but he knows the answer, he just wants to hear him say it.

“Yours”

They take the train back to Jordan's place, Oak sits next to him and curls up a little, head on his shoulder. Jordan's hand finds his hair. It's silent between them, just the sound of everyone else, subway white noise. For once Jordan doesn't feel the need to fill it with words, just sits comfortably with Oak. 

They're a couple of stations away and he's tuned into Oak's breathing. Soft and slow. Jordan's hand goes from his hair to the back of his neck, stroking softly with his thumb.

"I love you too,” he talks softly, just quiet enough for Oak to hear. "Just in case that wasn't clear"

Oak tilts his head up and looks at him for a second before kissing him. It’s soft, gentle, but Jordan feels it in every inch of his body, this is exactly where he needs to be.


End file.
